Sleep, Mr. Speaker, Harvey will soon
  Move to abolish the sun and the moon;
  Hume will no doubt be taking the sense
  Of the House on a question of sixteen pence. 
  Statesmen will howl, and patriots bray—­
  Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may!

  Sleep, Mr. Speaker, and dream of the time,
  When loyalty was not quite a crime,
  When Grant was a pupil in Canning’s school,
  And Palmerston fancied Wood a fool. 
  Lord, how principles pass away—­
  Sleep, Mr. Speaker, sleep while you may.

The following is a spirited version of a dramatic scene in the second book of the Annals of Tacitus: 

Arminius.

  Back, Back;—­he fears not foaming flood
    Who fears not steel-clad line:—­
  No warrior thou of German blood,
    No brother thou of mine. 
  Go earn Rome’s chain to load thy neck,
    Her gems to deck thy hilt;
  And blazon honor’s hapless wreck
    With all the gauds of guilt.

  But wouldst thou have me share the prey? 
    By all that I have done,
  The Varian bones that day by day
    Lie whitening in the sun;
  The legion’s trampled panoply
    The eagle’s shattered wing. 
  I would not be for earth or sky
    So scorned and mean a thing,

  Ho, call me here the wizard, boy,
    Of dark and subtle skill,
  To agonize but not destroy,
    To torture, not to kill. 
  When swords are out, and shriek and shout
    Leave little room for prayer,
  No fetter on man’s arm or heart
    Hangs half so heavy there.

  I curse him by the gifts the land
    Hath won from him and Rome. 
  The riving axe, the wasting brand,
    Rent forest, blazing home. 
  I curse him by our country’s gods,
    The terrible, the dark,
  The breakers of the Roman rods,
    The smiters of the bark.

  Oh, misery that such a ban
    On such a brow should be! 
  Why comes he not in battle’s van
    His country’s chief to be? 
  To stand a comrade by my side,
    The sharer of my fame,
  And worthy of a brother’s pride,
    And of a brother’s name?

  But it is past!—­where heroes press
    And cowards bend the knee,
  Arminius is not brotherless,
    His brethren are the free. 
  They come around:—­one hour, and light
    Will fade from turf and tide,
  Then onward, onward to the fight,
    With darkness for our guide.

  To-night, to-night, when we shall meet
    In combat face to face,
  Then only would Arminius greet
    The renegade’s embrace. 
  The canker of Rome’s guilt shall be
    Upon his dying name;
  And as he lived in slavery,
    So shall he fall in shame.

* * * * *

Campbell and Washington Irving.

The Editor of The Albion, in noticing the republication by the Harpers of the very interesting Life and Letters of Thomas Campbell, by Dr. Beattie, has the following observations upon Mr. Irving’s introductory letter: